Concern
by HopeCoppice
Summary: Bertrand receives some worrying intelligence. Part of the 'Du Fortunesa' series.


**Part of the 'Du Fortunesa' series; follows on from 'Solitude'; cross-posted from AO3; Young Dracula is still not mine; reviews are gratefully received. That about covers it, I think.** **Enjoy!**

Just because he wasn't allowed to obsess over a certain Vladimir Dracula, Bertrand reasoned, that didn't mean that he had to forget about him completely. Indeed, he had a duty to ensure that the boy was taken care of. With this in mind, he made his way to the pub nearest to Garside Grange as soon as evening fell. If it took more effort than he had expected to turn in under the sign of the Rose and Crown rather than continuing to the school, he told himself that it was only force of habit.

Once inside the bar, he ordered a glass of red wine for appearance's sake and was about to start looking for potential informants when a voice spoke up behind him. "Bertrand, my dear boy!" He rounded on the breather, who turned out to be none other than Jim Grant, one of Garside's three History teachers. Biting back his irritation, the vampire smiled politely and accepted an invitation to join the portly man for a drink.

"You must be missing the work, since Andrea seems to be on the mend." Bertrand nodded tightly; he had been forced to stand in as a supply teacher for the History department on a few occasions and they had been among the most tedious hours of his centuries-long existence. This conversation, which had now consisted of twenty minutes' rambling on Jim's part, was working its way up the ranks too. "Still, you had that tutoring job, didn't you, with Vlad Count?" Bertrand's interest in the discussion soared as he began trying to think of subtle ways to ask how the boy was doing. "Yes, not a bad lad, but he does sometimes forget to cite his sources. Honestly, from some of his essays, you'd think he'd just stepped back in time to chat with a survivor! Very interesting, but more suited to English work than History, I'm afraid." Bertrand grimaced slightly at that, taking another sip of his wine. "Still, a very promising student – I don't think you need to work him quite so hard, though."

The vampire frowned. "What do you mean?" Jim frowned. "He looks like he's hardly slept for the last week – I know he's got exams coming up, but he's actually caught up with everyone else since you arrived. He shouldn't be working so hard at all hours of the night. He fell asleep in the middle of a film about the First World War on Monday – you must have noticed he's been tired?" Bertrand shook his head. "It seems I chose the wrong week to take some time off."

The other teacher raised an eyebrow. "You haven't been working with him? I assumed that was why he was up so late. There's been some concern in the staff room – he usually makes an effort to pay attention, but the last few days..." The vampire took another drink, wishing it was blood rather than wine, and pressed for more information. "What have the staff been saying?"

"Just that they've been noticing the same thing; he's distant, he barely talks to anyone, he turns up to classes but he doesn't seem to be really there. Mrs Maddox says he started snoring in Maths, although I can't say I blame him there... I'd say he'd probably been out partying with his friends all night, but you know Vlad. The boy's about to drop from exhaustion, but I've no idea why. Oh, are you leaving?" Bertrand had stood suddenly. "If you'll excuse me, Mr Grant, I've just remembered that I have somewhere to be." Before the teacher could react, he had left the pub and disappeared towards the school.

Bertrand didn't stop at the door, or when he passed Ingrid folding away her travelling cape as she made her way along a deserted hallway. He made his way straight up to Vlad's coffin room and knocked sharply. A minute passed with no reply; he knocked again with similar results. Jim Grant had clearly been mistaken about Vlad's sleeping habits; he must be in his coffin, resting, even now. The older vampire cursed under his breath; Ingrid had seen him, so he couldn't leave again now without arousing suspicion. Still, if Vlad didn't need him, he should never have come back. He wasn't ready to be around his protégé on a regular basis; he couldn't trust himself to behave while the slayer continued to taunt him... No, he had to go back. He could claim he'd just been passing through on his quest for whatever it was he would eventually pretend he'd been looking for.

Dawn was a few hours away yet, so he decided he had time to wander down to the training room and pick up a book to keep him occupied on his return to the library. It wasn't until he was halfway across the room that he realised the stack of policy books he'd left there had moved. In fact, they were still moving, as an exhausted-looking young vampire turned pages and dragged a pen across one of the three notebooks Bertrand spotted at first glance. By the time the boy looked up, his tutor was looming over him with a decidedly unimpressed expression on his face. "What are you doing?"

Vlad blinked. "Hope you don't mind me using your books... So much to learn..." He glanced down, but Bertrand relieved him of his pen. "Go and sleep, Vlad. You've got school tomorrow." The younger vampire shook his head. "It's Friday, I'll be fine..." Bertrand's frown deepened. "It's Wednesday night, Vlad. Coffin. Now." The Chosen One sighed and, with a reluctant nod, got up to make his way towards the door. He was almost there when he stopped, confused.

"You left." His tutor nodded, beginning to see that it might have been a mistake to do so. Honestly, was nobody else looking out for the boy? "Erin left too." That was news to Bertrand; he wanted to ask why, and where she'd gone, but now didn't seem the time. "I'm sorry." Vlad shrugged. "It's fine. You're back now. You are back, right? Or is this a flying visit?" The tutor suspected the words would have had a more sarcastic tone if the boy could keep his eyes open. A decision had to be made.

With all the pressure Vlad was under, it was clear that he was trying to do too much. He needed someone to keep him from overdoing it. Bertrand didn't know if he was the best person for the job, but there didn't exactly seem to be a queue of volunteers. More importantly, he didn't know if he could handle leaving again – and how could he have forgotten Vlad's abandonment issues? The Chosen One needed stability in his life far more than he needed to be kept safe from Bertrand, right now, and external threats were only going to increase as he stepped into his rightful place as leader of the vampire world.

Vlad swayed on his feet and stumbled back towards his tutor, mumbling something in what sounded suspiciously like Aramaic as the floor approached his face with alarming speed. Bertrand reached out to stop his fall and realised that there was no decision to make. He took the boy by the arm and began guiding him firmly up the stairs. "I'm back."


End file.
